


A Perfect Handful

by Whendoestheshipsail



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Because why the hell not?, Big Dick Barnes, Bucky Barnes has a filthy mouth, Captain America: The First Avenger, Coming Untouched, Feminization, Friends With Benefits, Happily Ever After, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Steve has a really small dick, and he loves to talk about steve's assets, fluffy and not quite as smutty as i thought it was going to be, steve rogers amazing rack, the serum doesn't change everything much to his dismay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22263736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whendoestheshipsail/pseuds/Whendoestheshipsail
Summary: Steve Rogers has always been embarrassingly small. Everywhere. When he gets the serum, he's relieved he'll finally be proportional, perhaps even well- endowed. That isn't what happens. He's exactly the same size as he was before. But now, with his larger body as contrast, his dick and balls look even more minuscule. And he has breasts. Ridiculously large, overly sensitive breasts. No one wanted him before and they won't want him now, either. Well, no one except Bucky.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 141
Kudos: 538
Collections: Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes AUs





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is downright wholesome compared to the utter filth I've been writing lately. I'm guessing this will be 20k but I'm not quite sure. This story is getting shoved forward in my 'to be completed queue' because of Feiro. Thanks so much for all the great comments and conversations over the last several months as I have eagerly rolled around in the Stucky fan fiction trash fire that has become my life.

There’s one thing Steve has never told anyone. One thing no one knows. Well, Bucky might, because they lived together for so long, and Steve was sick so often that he must have seen Steve naked, but Steve is… small.

Down there.

Not just a little small, but _really_ small. His balls are small and fit easily in his hand. His penis, when it isn’t hard, is just a tiny nub that doesn’t even dangle right. And when he’s erect he’s barely three inches. He uses two fingers and his thumb to jerk off.

And it’s too easy. He doesn’t know why. One would think it wouldn’t make any difference or that he wouldn’t come so fast since there’s less to get a hold of and stimulate, but he comes fast. Sometimes, he can come untouched if he thinks about it really hard. And he can always come if he rubs against the bed. He’s always slept on his stomach and it wasn’t all that unusual to wake up with a mess in his shorts, not even a hand on himself, just a little press and grind down into the mattress.

As he stumbles into the bathroom with his new, ridiculously large body, hair still damp from the stopping the submarine escaping,he can’t help but be desperately curious to see how big he is now.Steve locks the door behind him, massive fingers hesitating over his pants. What a fucking relief it will be to have a big dick.

Even just a normal to above average dick would be great. Sure, the rest of him is bigger, so if the serum made him average then he might look a bit on the small side proportion-wise, but he’ll take it.

And bigger balls will likely mean he can come more, further, maybe even harder. So many things he’s wanted to experience but never got to. Like having someone else’s hand on his cock.Maybe he can even get a girl to put her mouth on him like Bucky swears is so great. Or, maybe he’ll even be able to have sex and know what that’s like.

Bucky describes it to him, but that’s…. That’s it’s own problem. Steve has had to make Bucky stop telling him about his exploits because it gets Steve too worked up. How wet it is, the squeeze on his dick, the tightness. It’s just too much. Twice now, he’s found himself grinding against the bed while Bucky talked and wound up coming in his pants. At least Bucky hadn’t realized what was happening. Jesus. What a disaster that would have been.

But now everything will be different. His hands fumble at the waistband of his pants. It doesn’t feel different, his dick isn’t heavier or anything. And the front of his pants are as flat as ever. A bolt of fear goes through him. The horrible possibility that maybe he hasn’t changed there, coalesces inside of him. He shoves his pants down and cups his cock and balls, stomach churning with nausea, already knowing the answer. _No._

They’re the same. His dick and his balls are just as small as they were before. How could they stay the same? Everything else grew. _Everything._ Well, the major muscle groups that got injected and irradiated.

Maybe… maybe he didn’t get enough serum there before the radiation? Maybe it was still winding its way through his body and his dick and balls got skipped? It wasn’t like he was hard and blood was encouraged to go to his dick when the irradiation started.

He’s got to know for sure, though. There’s a small possibility that maybe when he gets hard, he’ll be bigger, right? He licks his fingers and grabs hold of his tiny cock, pressing against his balls with the other hand so it sticks out a bit more. He starts to get hard instantly. And not just a little bit hard, butbursting hard. So hard and overwhelmed he collapses to the side, hunching over as he comes unexpectedly.

Shit. He hadn’t meant to. He doesn’t know how that happened so fast. It’s embarrassing. His dick is still pulsing lazily and he feels like maybe he could go again. So he tries, rewets his fingers and tugs and tugs and it doesn’t take long before he comes again. But this one _hurts_. It’s half pain and half pleasure and he cups himself after it’s over.

Like he needs protection or something. 

His nipples are visible through his shirt and he lifts it up, horrified at what he can already tell are massive breasts. He has _breasts_ now. He cups them, squeezes them, shocked that they have real weight and sensation now.

Is this how women feel? Do other men feel like this? His nipples are unbearably sensitive. It’s like they’re connected to his dick with an electric wire and he’s panting in no time, unable to let himself go, watching helplessly in the mirror as he rubs and massages the flesh.

Yeah, it’s muscle, but it’s soft too and if this is half as good as it feels to touch a woman’s chest then no wonder Bucky is always talking about how great breasts are. He presses gently against the sink, almost humping it while he fondles himself, rocking gently, the cool hardness nice against his sore dick. He comes again.

It’s a nightmare.


	2. Chapter 2

Her name is Darla and she’s a chorus girl. She’s what the other girls call ‘fast’ and she makes sure to ask Steve for help with her outfit, the very first night on tour. She also wants him to make quite sure that the seams of her stockings are lined up properly. Apparently, one can only be sure if you run your hand up the whole length of the leg.

Steve isn’t that gullible but he’s more than happy to go along with it. She bends over when he walks by and will give him a look that makes Steve’s breath catch.

She hauls him outside after the first performance saying they’ll have a smoke and kisses him in the rain. He gets hard and she presses close against him, sliding her leg between his as she starts to rub against his thigh like a friendly cat. She’s squirming against him, practically purring, exclaiming over how firm and muscular his stomach is and her hand is working it’s way down… leaving a sizzling trail of lust in its wake. He tries to stop her hand, needing just a moment.

She smells so good, and she’s so soft and pretty and…. He comes.

He groans quietly. Distantly, he thinks he kind sounds like dying animal. His body goes stiff and then he slumps like someone just cut his strings. She draws back, looking at him curiously. “What… what happened?” she asks, looking down his body.

“What? Nothing. I just… been thinking about you a lot,” he says, because Bucky told him flattery was always a good distractor when one was having lady troubles.

“Yeah, but, you didn’t… _go off_, did you?”

“No, of course not,” he says, even though the wetness is in his pants and will be visible soon. God, he’s got to get out of here immediately. This is horrible. Embarrassing. What if she tells people?

She laughs. Does it sound strained? Does this now seems as fuckign weird to her as it does to him? How do people do this? How could Bucky go out and do _things_ with a different girl all the time?

“How about you let me have a peek and see? I need to know if I can manage it,” she says, and she’s cupping between his legs before he’s got sense enough to stop her. She frowns when she doesn’t encounter his hard cock. Hell, she probably doesn’t encounter anything, the thick fabric and padding in the suit that’s meant to smooth out any embarrassing lumps during a show kind of hides his thumb of a penis.

“I have to go,” he says, moving away from her as quick as he can. “This has been swell. Have a good night, Darla.”

She doesn’t try to call him back. It doesn’t seem like she tells anyone. None of the other girls give him weird looks or imply they know about their encounter from the very first night. But, she does look at him like he’s a slightly unpleasant mystery the whole rest of the tour. As if he’s a hairless cat or a very disturbing insect. As if he’s not quite right.

Bucky would tell him he was being ridiculous. Bucky isn’t there. And he’s darned sure he isn’t.

And then there’s Peggy. Making eyes at him and standing close on the few occasions he runs into her at HQ. He has no idea how he can tell her. She eyes his shoulders, looks at his ass. She brushed against him once, her bottom grazing the front of his pants, which has got to be an invitation of some kind. Bucky would know.

Would she want him if she knew what he had down there? Well, what he didn’t have down there? Maybe there’s a work around. He starts having confused daydreams where maybe he and Bucky could both have her and Bucky could fuck her with his massive cock and Steve could… touch her… or something. Maybe hold Bucky’s cock and help put it in her?

Maybe if Bucky fucked her really well and she was sated and wet, he could just lay on top of her and try. See if he could get it in the right spot. God, there are so many possibilities where it could go wrong that he almost feels like he’d have to have Bucky there to help them.

“It’s okay pal,” he’d say, in that deep voice. He’d help get Steve into position, encourage him. And Bucky has such a filthy mouth that he bets Peggy would come in no time just listening to Bucky describe it all. “Feel her? Wet and soft. Move your hips Steve. Go ahead.”

Just imagining it always makes him come. 

He’s a disaster.


	3. Chapter 3

From that point on, he tries to pretend sex doesn’t really exist. It just isn’t happening. What’s the point? No one would want him if they knew, and he’s gotten by with his hand for this long, so…. Anyway, it’s depressing, and he’s going to be alone forever. Isn’t it better to just focus on saving the world and ending the war instead of whether or not anyone is interested in Little Stevie?

And then he rescues Bucky. Bucky who is now scared in the night and so traumatized on that first night back in camp that he’s happy to be the little spoon for once in his life.

They wake up in the morning and Steve is hard, so achingly hard and he’s pressed up against Bucky’s ass and he wants to press and rub and thrust. It’d feel so good. Wouldn’t take much. He rolls away.

Bucky looks at him, eyes wide. A little sad.

“Oh fuck. You know,” Steve says, and he puts his hands over his eyes, and tries not to start crying.

“I guess… maybe I know. If we’re talking about what I think we’re talking about.” Rage and disgust force Steve up. He throws back the bedding, looks at the tent of Bucky’s pants. He’s gotta be at least seven inches and so damned wide. Hell, Steve can see the fat head of him and he’s so desperate to know what that’s _like_, to have one that big and to touch it that he can’t hardly stand it.

He puts his hand over his tiny dick and balls, squeezing hard. Punishing himself.

“Stop that. You’ll hurt yourself,” Bucky says, pulling Steve’s hand away. He’s even more wide eyed and concerned looking than he was before.

_“Everything_ else grew,” he says, devastated. “It seems even smaller now that the rest of me is bigger. What am I supposed to do?” he whispers, grabbing hold of Bucky. Because Bucky always fixes everything. The fights Steve would start and couldn’t finish. He helps Steve when he’s sick or when he’s broke. When he’s desperate and lonely. He doesn’t see any damned way Bucky can fix this, but Bucky is all he’s ever had. And if there is a fix, Bucky will find it.

Hell, at least he’ll have someone to talk to about it. Which is already a bizarre relief.

“The size of your dick isn’t everything, Steve. You aren’tthe only guy in the world with a little dick, just like I’m not the only guy in the world with a big dick. They’re all different. You know, girls breasts don’t match up. One is always bigger and one is always smaller.”

“This isn’t the same.”

“I’m sure it’s not that small, pal. Do you… do you want me to have a look?”

“What good would _that_ do?” Steve demands.

“I don’t know. We could compare or something. Maybe you wouldn’t be so upset about it if you saw how ridiculous mine looks.”

“Ridiculous?” There are a lot of words that could be used to describe Bucky’s dick, poetry could be written about it, _ridiculous_ isn’t a word that anyone would ever use.

“Yeah, big old thing, flopping around and drooling everywhere. I bet yours looks nicer than mine.”

Steve huffs. Shoves him. “You’re bullshitting me. You always try to make me feel better. I didn’t buy it then, and I don’t buy it now.”

“No, I swear I’m not. Come on, what’s the big deal? I’ve cleaned up a lot of horrible things that have come out of you over the years.”

Steve blushes, mortified. “That’s… I’m sorry. And that’s definitely _not_ the same thing. Vomit and me showing you my dick have nothing in common. ”

“Do you want to see mine?” Bucky asks, like it’s not a big deal. His cheeks go a little pink, the only indication that this really isn’t something guys just ‘do’.

“What?” Steve’s dick swells at the idea.

“Come on. If you want to, I don’t care. If you touch it too much you might get a mess on your hands. It’s been awhile, if you know what I mean.”

Steve looks down at Bucky’s crotch. He can see the outline of it. Yeah, he knows what Bucky means. He wants to touch it. God, does he. “Go ahead. Touch it if you want. Be nice to have someone’s hand that ain’t my own.”

“Buck. That’s wrong,” he says, voice weak. If Bucky knew how much he wanted to, he’d grab Steve’s hand and just get on with it. Hell, he’d grab Steve by the back of the neck and press him face down into his crotch if he had any idea how desperately tempted Steve is.

“Being strapped to a table is wrong. Touch is good. I’ll take that any old day,” he says, and Steve wants to stop him when Bucky undoes his pants but he just can’t.

Bucky unzips and shoves them down and there is his cock, hard and flushed. Against his stomach. God, it goes up to his belly button. It twitches when Steve looks at it. Bucky grabs it, wraps a hand around himself and gives a quick stroke. A drop of fluid seeps out of the tip.

“Jesus,” Steve whispers. “Bucky, it’s…. It looks so _good_,” he says, devastated and awe inspired at once. Good is a terrible word. It doesn’t begin to describe how perfect and sexy and beautiful his dick is. “Fuck, you’re so _big_. Could you… will you put your hand around it again? P-please,” he asks. He shouldn’t ask but he just has to see it one more time.

Bucky puts a hand around his cock, then slips down and lifts his balls, too. They’re big and heavy and covered in dark hair.

Steve’s hand drops down to his own cock, groping around his small package. He can’t even find anything to stroke like this. He’d need to get inside his pants or just rub at himself like a girl if he wants to get off.

“Do you…do you want to touch it?” Bucky asks. There might be just a touch of a waver in his voice.

“I shouldn’t. That’s really screwed up. I mean, it has to be way over the line. Doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know. We might be dead by lunch time. _That’s_ fucked up.”

Well, that is true. And, he wants to touch it so fucking bad he can’t hardly stand it. This is why that dancer wanted to see him. Why Peggy brushed against him, and keeps eyeing him up. She thinks _that_ is what he has between his legs. Of course she fucking wants it in her hand and her mouth.

Inside her.

He looks at Bucky’s face. Bucky who knows him better than anyone. They’re probably going to die together. They’re closer than anything. So, so what if he touches him? Steve’s curious. It isn’t a big deal. Maybe for other people, but this is them. They’ve been together since they were kids. Everyone else got married and they stayed together. Closer than brothers.

Steve moves in beside Bucky and gets it in his hand, wraps his fingers carefully around it. It’s like satin. And it’s so warm and hot. It feels alive and strong. It feels so different then what he has and he doesn’t know how he’s going to let go.

They both moan as Bucky’s cock flexes in Steve’s hand. Jesus, Steve _felt_ that. Bucky’s head thunks back to the ground, eyes closing in pleasure.

Steve squeezes gently, thumb rubbing once against the soft shaft, shocked at how nice it feels. It’s like a muscle. Is a penis a muscle? He’s enchanted, in love with how perfect it is. How beautiful. “I should, um, let go now.”

“Don’t stop on my account,” Bucky gasps, “You’ve got good hands, Steve. Fuck.” Steve squeezes gently when he says that. A reflex. Bucky said something nice about Steve’s hands so he uses them. It’s only polite, really.

Bucky moans, this low, quiet sound that shivers up Steve’s spine. His hand slaps down on Steve’s thigh, clutching at him, wanting connection. Bucky _wants_ Steve’s touch. He _likes_ it. Steve’s spent so long knowing he can’t bring anyone pleasure and yet, look how simple it is? How easy?

“Oh god, can I touch you a bit more, Buck? Do you really not mind?”

Bucky snorts, gives him a look through half closed eyes. “I don’t mind. Help yourself.” 

Steve moves closer. His mouth is actually watering at the sight. How would anyone get that in their mouth? “It’s so big, Bucky.” He touches under the head with a finger tip and then all along the shaft, jerks him up and down and is desperate to see him come. To watch it and feel it in his hand. “Is this okay?”

“Better than okay. Christ, Steve. You’re a god damned natural. You play all you want,” he says, through gritted teeth. His hips press upwards when Steve does something Bucky really likes.

“God, you haven’t come yet or anything. I come so fast. Will there be a lot? That comes out?”

“Only one way to find out. Shit, keep doing that and you’re gonna get an answer.”

Steve pumps faster, up and down, watching the taut muscles of Bucky’s stomach contract and relax, how his balls get darker and fatter, pull up tight to his body.

And there’s more liquid, dripping out the top, drooling like Bucky said. Steve’s doesn’t do that. He’s either dry or he’s wet because he’s just come. He has no in-between.

Steve puts his head down, licking the drop of come, pressing his lips to the head and Bucky swears, urgent. His hand comes down to Steve’s head, clasps his head and half clenches like he isn’t sure if he should touch him or not. His hand is trembling. That’s how much he likes Steve touching him. “Fuck, that’s so good, Steve. I love that. Blow me and I’ll blow you back. _Please_. Steve.”

He smells like…. Steve doesn’t even know. Is this what a man is supposed to smell like? Steve struggles not to come, desperate to roll over and rub his little cock against the bed, but this massive beast in front of him is more important.

“Just come. I want to see it so bad,” he begs, without thinking too much about it. The cock twitches, pulses and Steve gets his thumb to rub under the head as he licks gently at the slit.

“Oh, shit. Gonna come,” Bucky gasps and the cock recoils in his hand like a damned gun. Come explodes onto Steve’s lip and into his mouth and he jerks his head back. Bucky comes copiously, long strands, heavy and hot that go all the way up his chest.

He’s never seen anything like it. He didn’t know it could be like that. God, no wonder the girls all wanted him. Did they all talk to each other? _That Bucky Barnes doesn’t just look like a movie star, he’s got a massive dick and there’s so much come, too_. _It’s a flood, Moira!_

Bucky stills Steve’s hand.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks. He doesn’t let go. He can’t.

“It’s sensitive.”

“You don’t want to go again?” Steve asks, confused.

“What, _now_?” he asks, laughing in disbelief. “I can’t go twice in a row. Wait. Can _you_?”

Steve blushes. “Usually. Yeah. I just keep on rubbing and it goes again.”

“Shit, Steve. I’ve gotta see that, you know?” he asks, breathless.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s… it’s not like yours. It’s horrible,”he says, not even wanting to look Bucky in the face.

“I doubt that. Besides, I promised. You put your mouth on mine, so I get to put mine on yours.”

“You came right after. It wasn’t like I had to put my mouth on you for a long time. And, I liked it. You don’t have to return the favor or anything,” Steve says, blushing and anxious.

There’s a horrible predatory light in Bucky’s eyes. Steve knows that look. He drops his gaze, embarrassed. Giving in, because Bucky’s given him _that_ look. That look that says Bucky knows best, he’s going to take care of it and Steve just needs to have alittle faith for once in his damned life.

Bucky shoves him back and he collapses with an oof. Bucky’s hands are on his pants, undoing the button and the zipper. He pulls them down, parts the fabric.

“I should lower my pants. Hard to get to,” Steve says, ashamed. God, what a mistake.“Or, just stop? You can change your mind. I’d understand.”

“Lift your hips, then,” Bucky orders. Steve does. His underwear gets pulled down. And there he is, hard and short and small. Barely any hair anywhere on him.

Bucky doesn’t even hesitate. He drops his mouth over Steve’s cock, taking him all in. He sucks on the whole length of it, pulling it into his mouth. Hot, wet, and god the _suction_. He’s coming instantly. Bucky backs off, coughs gently and swallows. It’s not more than one of Bucky’s spurts, but it clearly took him by surprise. “Sorry!” Steve gasps.

He licks his lips. “Tastes sweet, Steve.” His hand hovers over Steve’s groin. “What can I touch that won’t be too much?”

“Whatever you want,” he says, trying to catch his breath. Bucky pets him gently with a single finger down the seam of his balls and Steve’s hips lift up, wanting more. Bucky makes a pleased sound and cups all of him in his hand. “You fit _perfectly_, Steve.”

He wants to cry. He shoves up and throws his arms around Bucky’s neck. He’s never expected anyone to say what he has is perfect or that it fits anywhere.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bucky says, patting his back like he always does when Steve is brought low by illness or the injustice of it all. He kisses Steve on the forehead and then whispers, “Can I do it again?”

Steve blushes, bites his lip. He should say no, but it had felt so good and been over so fast. “If you want.”

“Lay down, Steve.”

Steve goes, his cock rock hard and throbbing in need already. Bucky licks his lips. “I want to put my mouth on you again. Can I do that?”

“Bucky, yeah. That felt so good.”

Bucky bends down, kisses the head and Steve whimpers, curls his hands into the bedding and hopes he lasts longer this time. Bucky licks the tip. “Taste so sweet, too. Better than a girl, Steve. I swear.”

The idea of being tasted and having someone like it, is enough to make him almost come. “It’s gonna be fast again, Buck. Sorry, I just… it just happens.”

Bucky is back on him in an instant, licking and sucking gently on his tiny cock. His tongue pokes into the base near his balls and Steve comes with a low moan.

He’s sensitive then, gasping and tears fill his eyes, twitching as Bucky moans and keeps going. The vibrations alone make him want to weep, but Steve doesn’t stop him. It still feels so good. He can finally feel it, has time where he won’t shoot off and miss the actual sensation of Bucky’s hot mouth and the pulling pleasure on his dick. It hurts and he lets his legs open more, inviting more. Anything. “Bucky,” he whispers, but he doesn’t even know what he wants.

Bucky gently lets Steve go, gives him a gentle kiss. “One more, Steve? Can you do one more?” he asks, cajoling. The same sort of way he’d ask if Steve could take a little more soup or medicine. He wants Steve to have it.

“I don’t… it’s _sore_,” he whispers. But Bucky’s mouth is so warm and hot and Steve feels weak, unable to protest, not really wanting to. He lays there and lets Bucky suck and lick at him, shivering and arching with each flick of his tongue. His hips roll up and down, like he’s actually fucking someone and it’s so good, sliding up and down that scale of pleasure and agony.

It’s unpredictable, what’s going to feel like pleasure and what won’t. He loses himself to it, chasing all of it, just enjoying each lash of sensation. Whatever Bucky gives him, he wants it.

He lasts for ages. He gets to experience Bucky’s mouth and appreciate the wet heat of it. He tangles his fingers in Bucky’s hair, moans deep in his throat. Watches Bucky’s face. Seeing his lips on Steve’s cock, taking him all the way in, is better than he ever thought it could be.

“Gonna…again,” he finally gasps and then he’s coming and it _hurts_. Hurts so bad his mouth opens in a silent scream and he shudders hard all through it. Fuck, it was good. And bad. Mostly incredible. Bucky stills then. Lets Steve go soft in his mouth before releasing him.

“Well, there’s your problem. You just gotta get a few out of you first so you can last for awhile. You were gonna have my jaw hurting there in a moment.” Bucky rubs gently at the edges of his jaw and smiles fondly at Steve.

Steve thinks about that. He’s pretty sure it’s bullshit. But, yeah. A cock in one’s mouth, having to stay open wide for so long… one’s jaw would be sore. Steve moves his jaw absently, thinking about it. “I don’t know. That third time hurt. A lot.”

“Good hurt or bad hurt?”

“Good.” He can’t meet Bucky’s gaze. They’ve had conversations about Steve and how he gets in fights and likes some kinds of pain. He has to, it’s the only way to explain all the scrapes he’d get into. Bucky hadn’t understood for a long time. He’s resigned now.

“I think it’s great, Steve. Tastes good, too.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Look at me. I do. Proof is right there, Stevie,” he says, and Steve sees his cock is hard again. Bucky strokes it lazily, seeming undecided as to what he’s going to do about it.

“Bucky. Can I, just one more time?” Steve asks, nervous but wanting to touch it again.

“Are you sure?”

Steve nods, sharply. “Maybe…maybe make my jaw hurt, too?”

“Open your mouth, I’ll move to you,” he says, and he prowls up Steve’s body. His cock is heavy and he dips his hips so Steve can take it in his mouth. Steve sucks and Bucky thrusts gently, softly, for a long time. It takes forever for him to come again. So much longer than it ever takes Steve. Bucky gets harder and bigger, slippery pre-come, bitter and part of Bucky, seeps into Steve’s mouth.

Steve reaches between his own legs, touches his balls. Stroking and fondling. He plays with himself, feeling languid and good for once. He’s happy to have his legs open and his cock and balls in the open air, big hand moving over them, tugging and working himself slowly. He even touches behind his balls, that stretch of skin, fingers playing up and down until he touches his hole. Just touches. He takes his hand away from there.

He loves Bucky’s cock. His jaw is really aching now and Bucky looks down at him, “Little deeper? I’ll come then.” He rubs his thumbs gently over the sore spots of Steve’s jaw, expression hot, “So fucking good, Steve. So patient and….” 

Steve nods a little, sucks in answer, feeling almost smug that Bucky seems to have forgotten how to talk. For once. Bucky goes deeper and Steve almost gags.

“Jesus, Steve. That’s so good. And you love it, don’t you? Girls don’t like doing this like you do, Steve. Never had anyone suck on me like this. Happy to have my cock in your mouth. Fuck, it’s amazing. Can I go a little deeper?” he asks, and it sounds like he’s begging.

Steve arches his head back so more cock slides deep into his mouth. He almost gags again.Bucky groans and comes in Steve’s mouth, on his tongue, filling it with come. He swallows it all, nurses gently until Bucky is completely soft and then nuzzles all of him. His balls and his taint, breathing him in, licking what he can, just rubbing his face all over.

He presses his hand, just his palm, over his cock, again and again while he does it and then comes for a fourth time.

He’s never felt so good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's just get right to it for a change.


	4. Chapter 4

Peggy tells him they’re gonna get leave in London for a few days. She looks at Steve speculatively. “You seem like you’re doing well. Very…confident. You should be proud.”

He blushes. He is proud to have saved all those guys. It was the best moment of his entire life, rescuing Bucky, finally getting to pay him back, just a little, for always saving him. But, that’s not why he’s eyeing her mouth in a way that makes her blush and even get a little bit flustered.

It’s that he now knows how good it is to get a mouth on him. He knows he can make someone else feel good, too. “The men have all been given prophylactic kits for leave. But, we, um, are short one for you. Didn’t know if you’d need something…special. I can get it to you before your night out. Maybe… meet you?”

Oh. She thinks he’s like Bucky. He shakes his head, dumbly. “I don’t… nothing special,” he manages.

She glances down and he’s glad his jacket covers his crotch. “Oh, okay. Well, I’d like to meet up, if you’re around.”

“I’m sure I will be. Bucky and the guys wanna buy me a drink.”

“Well, then. I’ll find you, shall I?”

He agrees. And then he panics. He finds Bucky that afternoon in medical, waiting for yet another exam. He’s alone in a private medical tent that’s off to the side. “Hey. I was looking for you,” Steve says.

“Here I am. Human guinea pig. Or maybe that’s you. Guinea pig side kick. I don’t know how you did it. All this poking and prodding. Jesus.”

He shrugs. It’s just part of it. “It isn’t so bad. Maybe because I’ve always been prodded and what not.”

Bucky nods. “You look like someone kicked your puppy. Oh god, you’re not upset about this morning, are you? It really isn’t a big deal.”

“What? No! That was… no, that was amazing.” He grimaces. “I saw Peggy.”

“She likes you. A lot,” Bucky says. It sounds like he’s happy for Steve but his smile is pinched.

He opens his mouth, closes it again. “She likes _this_. The outside. She didn’t want me like I was. She was nice to me. She was kind and respectful and a friend, but it never would have been more than that. She likes me now. But, once I’m undressed, if I got undressed for her then, I’m _that_ Steve again. You know?”

Bucky frowns. “I like that Steve just fine. Why wouldn’t she? Besides, there are other options, you know. She could put her mouth on you, you can use your hand. If she really feels like she needs a big dick, we can make that happen. Do you know what—”

“What do you mean _we_ can make that happen? Would you be willing to help?” God, that would solve all his problems.

Bucky blinks at him. Just… blinks. “Um, I was going to say there are dildos. Hell, we passed a zucchini field a mile back that would make any girl blush. _That’s_ what I meant.”

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense, I guess.” He looks down, wishes he could take it back.

“More sense than a threesome. I haven’t gotten the impression she’s sweet on me, pal.”

“She wants to have sex on Saturday. She asked if I needed special condoms. _Big_ condoms.”

“You’re fucking kidding me? The cheek on her.Jesus, what did you say?”

“I just said I didn’t need anything special. She seemed…disappointed.”

“You don’t know that. Agent Carter, a size queen? Maybe,” he says, but he sounds skeptical.

“I can’t do it alone. Maybe… look, all the girls love you. Just _try_. Give her the old Bucky charm and see if we can all go dancing and then maybe it could work out. She might not care about what all I don’t have, if you’re there to make up for it. I could touch her other places?” he offers, hesitantly.

Of course, that’s when the doctor comes in. He asks Bucky a few questions and then dismisses him. They have nothing to do the rest of the day. All the men have gone on a recon mission or are at their duties and it’s almost like having the camp to themselves. “There’s hot water,” Bucky says, like the possibility is too good to really believe.

“Yeah. In the officer’s shower. It’s where I go. It’s empty. I’ll sneak you in.”

There’s no hesitation. Bucky grabs his towel, Steve grabs his and they’re off. There’s even a lock. Steve eyes it as he gets undressed. “So, you don’t regret it? What we did?”

“Hell, no.”

“Do you think it’s weird that I… liked it so much?”

“Do you think it’s weird that _I _liked it so much? Touch is touch, Steve. If they offer you seconds at dinner you don’t say no because it’s spaghetti and you wanted steak.”

“We never get steak.”

“_Exactly._ If there’s spaghetti, I want it and I want seconds,” he says, naked as he walks to the showers. He turns on the water. Steve looks at his ass. The long line of his thighs. Bucky shifts his stance and he can just catch a hint of his balls between his legs.

Bucky wanders into the stall. Steve locks the door. That’s the extent of his courage. He turns on the water in the next stall. Bucky catches his eye. “You know, you can touch it anytime you want to. If you thought it was nice before….” He shrugs. “It wasn’t even slick,” he says, with a wink.

_Slick._ From water and soap. Steve turns off his shower. His own cock is really hard. He thinks about jerking off before he goes over. “But, I want to touch you, too.” Bucky says, like he’s reading Steve’s mind.

Steve opens his stall and goes to Bucky’s. They’re not all that large and Bucky is close enough to kiss. Bucky’s kissed a lot of girls. Bucky’s got a mouth and lips meant for kissing. Bucky smirks and Steve realizes he’s been staring.

“I’m beginning to think I can give Agent Carter a run for her money. Come here and let me get a hand on you, soldier. You look like you need a little relief,” Bucky says. He brushes his knuckles against Steve’s balls. “Show me how you like it and I’ll do it.”

“I’m probably gonna come.”

“Well, that’s the point,” Bucky says, like it really isn’t a big deal.

Steve wraps his index finger and thumb around his cock, tucks his middle finger under too, uses the other hand to press against his balls. “Hell of a lot bigger that way, pal,” Bucky murmurs. Steve blushes, tugs once and is on the edge. He bites hard at the inside of his cheek. He wants to last for a few strokes at least. “Bigger _and_ harder. Christ, Steve,” he says, and Steve jerks himself fast a few times and comes. Bucky is so close to him it lands on his stomach. Bucky wipes his stomach, sucks it off his fingers.

“Bucky,” he says, helplessly.

“Can’t help it. You taste good, Steve.”

His knees go weak and he’s on the ground, knees jarred hard. His mouth is open and he sucks Bucky’s cock as deep as he can, pulls hard and fast, wanting a taste of his bitter come. He gets a little spurt of it and he pulls back so he can roll it around in his mouth, really get the taste of him. He shouldn’t like it as much as he does.

He swallows and goes back down. He grips the shaft, tugging frantically as he sucks. “Fuck, Steve. You’re gonna make me come so fast. Slow down or you’ll make me, _fuck_,”he gasps, and his head goes back, mouth open, silent. His hands are hard in Steve’s hair and his legs tremble. Steve feels powerful, strong, like he’s Casanova when it comes to Bucky’s dick, because he can make him fall apart.

“I’m gonna come. Pull off, babe.”

Steve doesn’t pull off. He’s going to swallow it down. He’s gonna take it all and show Bucky how much he wants it. Bucky comes in Steve’s mouth and Steve swallows every drop. He comes untouched, moaning as the last spurt floods his mouth. He rubs his face into Bucky’s groin, licking and kissing everything he can. “Could spend days down here, Buck.”

“Stevie,” Bucky says, and he grips him by the hair, tilts his head back. He looks very serious. His tone is very serious, too. “I won’t _ever_ stop you. I can promise you, I’ll always want you to. You just help yourself.” He finally smiles.

Steve chuckles. “How generous of you,” he murmurs, sucking a ball into his mouth with a moan.

Bucky grunts. “Fucking right I am. Come on now. Get up here, baby. I wanna return the favor. I know you can go again. Got that super soldier stamina. Give me that dick, Steve.”

Jesus, Bucky talking like that makes him so fucking hard and desperate. He gets to his feet. “Sensitive, Buck,” he whispers. He can’t stop looking at Bucky’s mouth. He wishes Bucky would kiss him. Show him that, too.

“You keep looking at my mouth like that and I’m gonna think you’re just playing hard to get.” Steve blushes and looks down.

“Just that the third time was a lot. Would you just…could you maybe hold it a little?”

“Hold it or hold you?” he asks, and his thumb brushes across Steve’s cheek. “What’s got you so upset?”

“I don’t know.” He turns away, but Bucky puts a hand on his shoulder. “Come here, doll. See what you think about this,” he says, and he steps in close, hand sliding down Steve’s hip and he cups all of Steve in his hand, cradling him. His other hand comes around Steve’s waist and he’s suddenly got Bucky pressed up behind him and it’s so fucking good that it makes him sob.

“Hush, sweetheart. I’ve got you. What’s wrong?”

“I’m just so glad you’re here. And you’re so strong and you can still hold me, even though I’mdifferent. Fuck, what would I have done if you’d died? I can’t do this without you. I can’t.”

Bucky holds him, kisses his neck and it starts out friendly almost, reassuring, but there’s a hint of tongue and Steve gasps, grinds back against Bucky’s cock which is more than half hard. “Put it between my cheeks. Not in, but just so I feel you.”

Bucky shifts, doesn’t even let him go, and that monster of a cock slides across his cheek and slips between, a little press making the shaft brush against his hole. His cock flexes against Bucky’s palm.

“I felt that.”

“Feels good,” Steve says. Bucky kisses his neck, open mouthed, and Steve begins to rock forward and back, gently, little movements, so sensitive still, but wanting.

“There you go. Like a fucking rock you are in my hand. So god damned hard, Steve. And wet. I feel you making a mess on my hand. Slide through it. Fuck my hand, Steve. Fuck me. There you go. Jesus Christ.”

Steve grabs Bucky’s hand on his ribs and drags it to his breast. “Please.”

“Fuck, really? Been dying to get my hands on your chest.”

Steve moans, fucks harder into Bucky’s grip. “They’re… yeah, harder. Pinch, oh, they’re sensitive.”

Bucky chuckles in his ear. “You don’t say?”

Bucky cups him, plays with his nipple, really groping him and getting him all worked up. Steve shivers at how good it is. “I’m gonna come.”

“Good,” Bucky murmurs. “Fuck, I can’t help myself here, Steve. You feel amazing. God, so fucking_ big_,” he says, awed as he holds Steve’s breast in his hand.

And yet, it almost sounds like he’s talking about Steve’s dick. It’s easy to believe that _that’s_ the big thing Bucky is so impressed by when he says it like that. With his hand already there and Steve so turned on already. Steve comes, grinding his cock into Bucky’s hand.

Bucky is panting and hard behind him. “Do you think I could finish like this? On your lower back and between your cheeks? I’m really close. It won’t take long.”

“Yeah, Buck. I don’t mind,” he says, much softer than he intended, and Bucky groans, presses his forehead to Steve’s shoulder and humps him, his massive cock sliding in and out in short little movements. His grip is tight on Steve’s breasts as he fondles them and plays.

“Oh fuck, Steve,” he growls, actually growls andhe pushes and shudders and Steve can feel it splattering on his back. He loves it. He loves Bucky. He loves this. He doesn’t ever want it to end. 


	5. Chapter 5

They meet up with everyone at the pub. It’s loud, there’s beer all over the floor and it smells thickly like cigarette smoke and the heat of people desperate to have fun.

Peggy has no interest in Bucky. She swans in wearing a red dress, like she’s ready for a night out, drawing every eye in the place like a bulls eye. Bucky tries, gives her his full attention, looks at her a little hungrily and that sends a complicated feeling through Steve.

On one hand he’s happy because Peggy agreeing to the both of them (as insane as it sounds) is really the only way he can go ahead with this. And yet, he doesn’t really like Bucky looking at Peggy like he wants to fuck her. Or asking to take her dancing. He’s jealous.

And even worse than that is Bucky’s approach to her. Bucky is charismatic. He draws people to him, his smile and charm promises fun. The look in his eyes, a little distant and dark, he isn’t promising the old Bucky fun. He might fuck her but he seems… determined or something.

Determined and fun aren’t two things that usually go together. Fortunately, Steve doesn’t have to worry about any of that for very long. She’s all eyes for Steve but doesn’t invite Steve out and neither he nor Bucky ask her to stay. It’s just awkward, a look full of potential and then she’s gone and he can go back to being with Bucky.

A promise contained in mutual smiles.

Is it even a promise? Maybe a dance. _Someday._ When the war is all said and done. The odds of them getting out of this thing alive are not high. If war teaches you one thing, it’s that you don’t fucking wait for anything. There are no guarantees for tomorrow. Let alone for the end of the damned war.

Tens of thousands of people are dying every week and if he can make it to the end of an unending war they’ll _dance_? She may as well have said they’d dance after he won the lottery. Steve can’t help but feel relieved. Like he’s been cut loose or something. 

“I think it’s for the best,” Steve says, as he and Bucky sit next to each other, Bucky with another beer. “I’m not sure I know what I’m doing. If we got her alone, I’d be so worried I’d do the wrong thing.” He looks over at Bucky, at his mouth as he drinks. Bucky’s lips are so fucking soft. They feel amazing on his cock and his body. He needs them on his mouth. He wants to be kissed. All those kisses Bucky threw around to random girls and Steve can’t help but feel like it’s his turn now. That he’s owed or entitled to them. “I mean, I don’t even know how to kiss her, you know?” he says. It’s not as subtle as he’d hoped.

Bucky licks his lips, Steve watches helplessly. He’s so _hard_ just sitting there. Bucky leans closer on his bar stool. He’s been getting a little closer all damned night. It’s becoming unbearable. “You do know I’m an expert on the subject, right?”

“I’ve heard things,” Steve says, blushing hard. Confident Bucky always leaves Steve feeling a little fluttery in his stomach. Steve strokes a finger along the side of his nearly full pint.

“Well, call me crazy, but considering where I’ve already had my mouth, I’m not going to object to touching yours. God, Steve, look at your lips. Prettier than most dames. Full and pink. You have a mouth made for kissing.”

“Bucky,” he says, suddenly shy. Bucky sits back down on the stool, turned towards Steve. A hand lands on Steve’s thigh.

“I keep thinking about it, you know. Touching you like I did the other day. What was better Steve? My mouth or my hand?”

“Buck, hush. Coming on so strong in here.” And yet, he loves it. And he thinks Bucky knows he’s protesting out of obligation, not because he wants Bucky to stop. Bucky’s always known how to read him.

Steve reaches for his arm, hand sliding down before letting go. Wanting to make sure Bucky knows there isn’t a real objection. He wants Bucky to pursue him. He always has. And knowing that Bucky is aware of his dick and wants him anyway, that he still finds Steve to be a turn-on. Yeah. He just needs more. He might never get enough now that he’s had a taste.

“It’s like that, huh, Steve?” Bucky chuckles, softly. “You want to play hard to get? Do I have to wait until closing time and hope you’ll let me walk you home? Maybe let me have a kiss if I promise to be a perfect gentleman?”

“No one believes that, do they?”

Bucky huffs a laugh, offended. “I know how to keep my hands to myself. Don’t just pester someone if they’re not interested. Sometimes it’s all a waste. You go out and treat a girl right and she’s all sweet and maybe lets you get a hand on her ass or on her breast, but that’s it. You don’t usually know if a girl is just trying to lead you on. It’s a risk. God, look at those lips.”

His hand is still on Steve’s thigh. “You know what I love, Steve?”

“What?” he asks, licking his lips. He might incinerate right here. Just go up in a poof of smoke.

“I love a sure thing. When they’ll let you touch wherever you want to. Just be easy and willing and up for it.”

He gives Bucky a look. I can do that, it says. Anything you want.

Bucky looks at Steve’s lips again. His own tongue comes out, licks the corner of his mouth absently.

“How do you know they’re interested?” Steve asks, making sure to follow Bucky’s lead. Neither of them saying _she_ or _her, not_ anymore.

He takes a sip of his drink. “Depends. If they look at you too long or get too close.”

“Laugh at your dumb jokes?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Bucky reaches down, adjusts himself, Steve watching out of the corner of his eye. Bucky is so big and hard. He can see the outline of him in his pants, pressing against the fabric and he needs to get his hands on him immediately.

He’s staring at Bucky’s cock in his pants. He doesn’t know when he turned to do that. When he finally looks back up again, Bucky is watching him. “Sometimes you just find the most good looking person in the joint and you ask them if they’ll leave with you.”

“Does that work?”

“Depends. Are we going?”

Steve blushes. “What about your drink?” he asks, taking a sip of his own. He wants to get out of here and come. Make Bucky come. But, he also wants Bucky to keep going. Make him feel desired and like he has good things to outweigh the area he lacks. Bucky wanting him has him leaking in his pants.

“Oh, darlin’ really? What’s a guy gotta do?”

“You, um, really want to go now?” he asks, and bites his lip.

“Definitely. Can’t wait,” he says, the desire radiating off of him has to be visible to everyone in the place. He should stop it. 

“You’re exaggerating,” Steve whispers, looking at him. Pretty sure Bucky knows full well how much he loves the flirting and the compliments, how it’s making him hard and desperate.

Bucky spreadshis legs. “You can see I’m not exaggerating. Look at the state you’ve got me in. You caused it, sweetheart. Think you need to help me take care of it.”

Steve’s hand shakes as he tries to take a sip of his beer and he has to give up, puts it back down on the table. He’s looking down, sick with lust and how badly he wants Bucky.

“Did I cause it? R-really?”

“Fuck, yes. All night you’ve been giving me looks, sending me signals, practically leading me on. It’s cruel. I’m gonna die if you don’t give me something.”

“Bucky,” he says, hand straying to touch Bucky under the bar, feel the shape of him. He needs to hear Bucky moan, feel him just as urgent as Steve is. He wants Bucky to grab onto Steve so hard he leaves bruises. He wants it so badly, is so turned on by the very idea of it that he’s on the edge himself.

“I need….” To slow down, he thinks. Just a minute, so he doesn’t disgrace himself in public. Bucky stands, puts his hand on the back of Steve’s neck, squeezing firmly, the hot line of his muscled body all along Steve’s. The hard press of his cock is against Steve’s hip and he can smell him. “God, you’ll make me come. Please, stop, Bucky.”

Bucky laughs, shouts something to someone at the other end of the bar. Steve doesn’t even know what they’re saying. Everything is noise and his pounding heart. He gets up off the stool and goes to the back, looking for the toilets.

People keep stopping him, raising a glass, but he must look like he’s about to puke or something because they don’t do anything to really slow him down. He’s walking carefully but trying not to be too obvious about it.

“Upstairs,” Bucky says, and he takes the stairs two at a time. The lights are off, there’s a rope across the top of the landing. The pub restaurant and it’s closed. Bucky opens the rope and waits for Steve, opens a door, which happens to be a small, private dining room and runs a hot look up and down Steve’s body. Steve goes inside, how does he not go inside?

“Bucky,” he says, and god only knows if he’s trying to stop something from happening or encourage it. Bucky comes closer. “I’ll ruin my pants. I’m so close.”

“Better get that cock out then,” Bucky says. And he reaches down, adjusts his balls and Steve has to look away, the wanting too intense. He gets his pants open, the zipper down, pulls his underwear down and out of the way.

His eyes are closed and he waits. It’s so loud downstairs, dancing and laughing and people acting like they’ve got only a few hours left before the end. Maybe they do.

He touches Steve’s mouth with his finger and Steve sucks the finger in. Salt and cigarettes, a hint of beer. “A fella might think this is an invitation. Careful now or every time I see your mouth I’m only going to be thinking about how I wish those pretty lips were wrapped around me.”

“Every time?”

“That’s right. It’s all I’m going to be thinking. Wanting from you. You’ll make me crazy with it. Have to drag you away from people, making up excuses because I can’t wait.”

“Fuck. Please,” he gasps, pressing against him, kissing his neck and touching Bucky frantically.

“You’re gonna get sick of it. Sick of me pestering you.”

“I won’t. Ever.”

You like knowing I want you, Steve?”

“So much,” he confesses, quietly. His face going hot. “I like… when you touch my chest. When you say it’s big.”

“So, I’ll tell you. It’s true. Fuck, I’m so glad you told me. Let me touch them now, please?” His hands are already on Steve’s buttons, undressing him, panting into his mouth. He yanks Steve’s shirt out of the way and grabs hold of Steve’s chest, thumbs over Steve’s nipples. Steve comes.

“God, I love how you come so fast.”

Steve blushes. Bucky is working his chest hard, like they’re toys or something, rough and careless. “They’re so pretty, Steve. Look how you fit in my hands? Can I fuck them?” But he’s already pushing Steve down to the ground and getting in position over his chest.

“Yes, yes,” Steve whispers, eager to go along with anything Bucky wants.

“Squeeze them together. Yeah, fuck, look at that.” Bucky thrusts between his breasts. As if this is actually a thing people do. It’s gotta be depraved and wrong. “Will you swallow, Steve? I love that you’ll swallow my come. Makes me feel like a god or something. You doing that for me.”

“Yeah, give it to me.”

Bucky grunts, looks at his cock sliding between Steve’s chest andpinches Steve’s nipples one by one where he can, enjoying the sounds Steve makes at each firm touch.

“Am I too rough, babydoll?”

“No. I like it. I want your come. Want you in my mouth,” he says, glad it’s dark. That it’s easier to say.

“Yeah, here it is,” Bucky gasps, and then he’s feeding his cock into Steve’s mouth, spurting before Steve’s ready and it gets on his face, practically up his nose and he has to keep his eyes closed.

He swallows and swallows. He’s shaking. He fumbles with his cock, two little tugs and he’s coming, hips humping off the floor. Bucky moves off of him, stumbles to his feet and helps Steve stand.

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Good. Don’t know why it took so long, anyway.”

When Bucky kisses him, he can feel him smiling.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pretend WS never happened.

2011

“Why him?” Steve hears Tony ask as he approaches the conference room. Well, demand. It doesn’t seem like Tony ever asks anything. He would say ‘like father, like son’ but he’d quite liked Howard. Maybe because Howard had liked him, whereas Tony seemed to hate him.

“Ah, the frozen man of the hour,” Tony says, when he goes into the room. “And you’re late, which is just the icing on the cake, isn’t it?” Tony smiles at him meanly.

“Sorry.”

“So, Steve. Have you ever heard of the Winter Soldier?” Tony asks.

“No. Who is he?”

“There’s really no reason you would have,” Natasha says. “He’s kind of an assassin urban legend. Lots of kills attributed to him for decades. But, he doesn’t go that far back.”

“How many decades?”

“Rumor is he killed JFK.”

“60’s. Got it.” Steve clarifies. Like, he’s heard of JFK. But, that doesn’t mean as much to him as it clearly should do. Seems like there are lots of terrible events to keep track of.

“He’s very valuable,” Fury says. “We’d heard chatter on the back channels that he’d gone rogue a few months back, bout a week after you turned up. There’s a bounty out. Reward for his capture alive.”

“Well, everyone’s a fan of Captain America, including evil assassins? That’s inspiring.” Tony says, snidely.

“Who wants him back?” Bruce asks.

“Not quite sure. But, I would love to know,” Fury says. “Hopefully, he’ll tell us. We’ve gotten a request from the Soldier, a trade of information if we’re willing.”

“And we’re willing?” Natasha asks.

Fury nods. “If we can capture him, great. But, I’d rather he came in on his own. I think this is a test to see if we can be trusted.”

“You’d put him to work for SHIELD?” Tony asks, indignant.

“Well, I don’t know until I talk to him, now do I?” Fury says, annoyed. “He’s got a lot of information, he’s an incredibly valuable asset and if we do this right, then maybe we can get both.”

“And you think Captain Boring is the man to make that happen?” Tony asks.

“I have no idea. But, he’s the man the Soldier asked for. At this point, what the Soldier wants is what he gets. As long as you’re safe,” Fury says, looking to Steve. Steve knows it’s an afterthought.

“What’s he offering?” Natasha asks.

“The location of some stolen nukes.” Steve thinks that seems pretty valuable. “What does he want?”

“A history lesson. A series of files regarding something called Operation Paperclip. It was a program started after WW2 ended. To bring over talented individuals from Europe so they could work in the United States.”

“Like who?”

Fury shrugs. “Engineers. Philosophers. Architects. Writers. Doctors and nurses. It was basically a brain drain. Lots of people wanted to leave and come here.”

“Sounds like you should make the trade. If it’s so outdated.”

“My thoughts exactly,” he says, and while Fury doesn’t smile, the inflection of his voice has changed just enough to sound almost happy. “Here’s where things are a little… odd. He wants original files. Hand delivered by you.”

Steve blinks. “Why me?”

“Exactly!” Tony says.

“You’re trustworthy,” Natasha says. “It’s his best chance of not getting stabbed in the back. Besides, you’re such a crappy liar, he probably feels like he could escape if it is a trap.”

Why does everyone make it seem like being a bad liar is a flaw? “Where’s the meeting?” he asks, wanting to get on with it.

Fury picks up a package from his desk. It’s opened. He hands it to Steve. “He sent this.” There’s a phone inside and a single piece of paper with a list of locations. Fury picks up a backpack and hands it to Steve. “You are to follow directions on the piece of paper. He’ll contact you at some point throughout the day. Make the exchange.”

“What if he doesn’t give me the coordinates for the nukes?”

“I think he will. This is just groundwork,” Natasha says. Tony grabs the piece of paper from Steve and looks at it. “This is all over everywhere. Brooklyn to Coney Island? Who the fuck wants to go there? Better you than me, after all.”

“It’s smart,” Natasha says, “If someone is trailing Steve, he’ll know. He’s a sniper, he’ll have good sightlines. He’ll probably pull you off the street somewhere before Coney Island, make sure no one is following you. Don’t engage in a fight if you don’t have to.”

****

Steve takes his motorcycle to Brooklyn. The first location is about a block from where he grew up. He’d always walk down this street on his way to Bucky’s house. He tries to shut down that thought. It’s too much. He couldn’t deal with losing Bucky back in 1945 and he can’t deal with it in 2011, either.

He’s been out of the ice for two months now. He’s…adjusting. Treading water. He’s alive.

He starts the long day’s journey the Solider has set out for him to follow. His neck prickles and he can’t help but look around, wondering if someone is watching him. Nothing stands out. No one even knows what the Soldier looks like. He’s a man. He’s white. He’s under 30. Brown hair. It’s a testament to how many people he’s killed that there is no picture. No witnesses.

The burner phone buzzes. There’s a message. _Lose the jacket. _

_“_Have to ditch the jacket,” Steve mutters.

“I’m not surprised,” Nat says. She’d told them not to bother putting a tracker in it, but SHIELD hadn’t listened. He takes it off and lays it on top of a newspaper dispenser then carries on walking.

He’s going down the steps to get on the subway when another message comes through. _Lose the earpiece._

“Earpiece, too. I’ll be fine.” He looks around the bottom of the stairs, but doesn’t notice anyone suspicious. He drops the earpiece and gets on the subway. When he gets out of the subway, there’s another text. _Buy a new backpack_. _Get rid of the old one._

He snorts. There’s a vendor selling cheap backpacks right outside the exit. He buys the Captain America one because he thinks it’s funny. It’s bright blue and has his shield on it.

_Get back on the train. Skip one on the list._

Steve gets back on the subway. It’s crowded from rush hour. At the next stop he gets a new message telling him to walk down an alley, and enter the third door on the right. It’s all covered, just in case someone is watching from the air. He’s got to give the guy credit for thinking it all through.

It’s pitch black inside. He instantly hears the click of a gun. “Easy. It’s just me,” Steve says. “I’m alone. Like you wanted.”

A hand, strong and hard as metal clamps onto his neck at the same time the gun presses against his lower back. The threat is pretty obvious. The hand urges him down so he goes to his knees. The hand leaves his neck, handcuffs thrown at his feet. Steve clicks them on. He can get out of them if he needs to.

“Stay,” a raspy voice whispers.

There’s the strike of a flare and it’s tossed to the ground, lighting up the room. The Soldier locks the door Steve just came in from. A metal bar, just in case. There’s a table and he can make out a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. The Soldier clicks the light on. Steve finally looks at him. He has the strangest feeling of…. Deja vu?

Something. He wants to cry. Which makes no damned sense whatsoever. The soldier is in black leather, muscular and tall. His hand is in fact, metal. He picks up the backpack and takes it to the table. He’s got a mask and goggles on so Steve has no idea what he looks like. He also doesn’t speak.

He’s beautiful. He could watch him forever, he thinks. Definitely a bizarre thought. The Soldier pulls out the files and opens them on the table, starts turning pages. He pauses and picks up the folder, brings it to Steve. Waits for him to read it. It’s a list of names. Operation Paperclip.

“Armin Zola?” Steve says, stunned and horrified. Fury hadn’t said scientists. Of course it was scientists the government wanted. The Soldier walks back to the table. He goes through more files, turning page after page.

“What do you know about him?” Steve demands.

There is no response. The Soldier ignores him and finally comes back with another piece of paper. It notes that Zola died, talk of a replacement. For some reason they decide it isn’t necessary. 

Steve wants to hit something. “A nice, long life. He didn’t fucking deserve it. What did he do while he was working for SHIELD?” The Soldier pauses, looks at him with vacant blankness that is oddly terrifying. He nods slowly. “That’s what you want to know? What he did when he was with SHIELD?”Steve asks.

The Soldier goes back to flicking through pages. He pulls out three more pieces of paper, comes back to Steve and squats down before him. He puts one down on the ground. It’s a three line letter from Zola to someone who’s name has been redacted, saying that he’s on schedule. It doesn’t say for what.

The next is a picture of Howard Stark shaking a congressman’s hand in 1955. The Soldier taps his finger to the grainy picture, to the audience and Steve can barely make out a woman. Dark hair.

“Peggy? What the fuck is this?” he demands and pulls at the cuffs. His heart is pounding, rage is flowing through him. The Soldier shakes his head, his flesh hand cups Steve’s cheek. It’s a shock. His touch is soft and warm. He stops fighting for just a moment, every instinct telling him to fight, but he doesn’t.

Why is he touching Steve? His hand moves, thumb under Steve’s bottom lip. The slightest pressure and Steve gasps, lips opening. The Soldier stares at him. He can’t see his eyes, but he knows the man is watching his mouth.

Lust, something he hasn’t felt since Bucky fell off that train, slams through him, hot and horrible. He jerks his head back and the Soldier lets go. He still has one piece of paper. He puts it down on the ground. It’s heavily redacted again. Whatever value this piece of paper had, it’s useless now. The Soldier reaches into his jacket, pulls out a folded piece of paper. He unfolds it, smoothes it out, sets it down next to the first. It’s the same piece of paper. Unredacted.

Why does the Soldier have the original paper on him? Why ask for the files and Steve to bring them, if he has the information already? Steve reads the paper.

_Serum administered, batch P23. Fourteen of fifteen subjects perished within 12 hours of injection. Single survivor has been alive for four days, shows signs of recovery. Further experiments will commence immediately. Blood samples, skin and hair samples are all included for further evaluation and study so we can understand why this subject has survived when none else have._

Armin Zola’s signature is at the bottom. The letter is from Azzano, two days before he rescued Bucky. It’s only then that he realizes the Soldier has very carefully left his fingers over the top of the page. He can’t see the name of the subject. He needs to see it.

He looks up at the Soldier. Tears filling his eyes already. “Please. Was it Bucky?” the Soldier takes his hand away. James Buchanan Barnes it says on the paper.

“What is this? What’s the fucking point?” The Soldier wipes away a tear from Steve’s cheek and stares at it for a long moment. He pushes to his feet and gathers the files. He puts them in a bag, one he brought instead of the Captain America one.

He puts the backpack on and comes back to Steve, crouching down again. Another piece of paper. Camp Lehigh.

“Why do you want to know about that?”

The Soldier raises a metal finger to his own lips. The universal sign that something is a secret. He taps the name James Buchanan Barnes and waits for Steve to nod. He hovers his hand over the papers in front of Steve and raises a finger to his mouth again.

Secret. Will Steve keep his mouth shut? He nods. The Soldier unlocks the handcuffs, lingers for a moment beside Steve. The Soldier sighs faintly. Steve can hear it. His hand comes forward, touches Steve high on the shoulder, a gentle squeeze.

Horrible and almost familiar. Gone forever.

Then the Soldier leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot. Why?


	7. Chapter 7

He goes straight back to SHIELD and realizes that the Soldier didn’t give him anything. No coordinates for the nukes. He was so fucking distracted by him mentioning Bucky that all thought went out the window. It’s hard to keep his mouth shut. Fury is happy to see him. Apparently, the location came through an hour ago and their team just got the nukes.

“This is a good sign. You aren’t hurt, he gave us what he promised, and I presume you gave him the files?”

“I did. Why would he have wanted those?”

“I have no idea. There wasn’t a damned thing in there that was relevant. It was all history.”

He wants to ask if Fury really believes that. Is Zola nothing? Does he not know of him? “He has a metal arm.”

Natasha comes in then. “Did you see his face?”

“No. But he has a metal hand and arm. He wore goggles and a face mask. I couldn’t tell what he looked like at all.” _Except that he touched me and I got hard,_ he thinks. He reminded him of Bucky. The height. The hair color. The gentle way he touched Steve. Steve’s physical reaction to him. It wasn’t just because of Bucky’s name, was it? It was the Soldier himself that reminded him so clearly of Bucky.

But, that wouldn’t make any sense.

Why did the Soldier show him Bucky, and how he survived those experiments under Zola? If he survived one experiment, could he have survived another? Could he, somehow, have survived a fall, landed in the snow and not died? And then what? Been found? Been… harmed? For decades?

“What do you know of the Winter Soldier?” he asks, rubbing his hand over his face as if that will keep the words in.

“Not much more than we told you before,” Fury says, shrugging.

“You said he’s worked for decades. He’s young.”

“How could you tell?” Fury asked.

“His skin. His forehead, the back of his hand. The way he moved. His hair. He can’t be over 30. How would they keep him young?”

“Cryo freeze? Supersoldier serum?” Fury says, half joking.

Maybe.

He needs to let this go. Just thinking it sounds delusional. He’s going to let it go.

Ridiculous to think that the love of his life has been alive this whole time, frozen, similar to him. Each thinking the other dead. His life isn’t a romance novel. Good things don’t happen to him. And yet, he can’t stop thinking about it.

***

Steve gets sent on another information swap three days later. He’s barely slept. He’s jittery. He dreams of Bucky. Wonders if this man _is_ Bucky and he’s so scared to ask. What if he is? What if he isn’t? It’s stupid to hope and wonder. If he had any sense at all, he’d forget about it. He’d told himself he would. He’s tried.

He can’t. It’s consuming him, wondering if this is Bucky. If somehow he’s still alive. Everything else, the arm, what he might have been through, the crimes he’s been forced to commit… those are the things he doesn’t let himself think about. That’s the sort of awfulness that would make him want to put a gun in his mouth and call it a day.

All he can think about is maybe. Perhaps Bucky is alive.

He goes into another building quite similar to the last one. A dark room, handcuffs thrown at his feet. A gun at his back. He goes down to his knees, puts the handcuffs on because this is apparently part of it. And he wants to be deemed trustworthy. The Soldier takes Steve’s bag with the files. He hasn’t said anything.

“I didn’t tell anyone.”

The Soldier nods, a sparse movement. Steve is racking his memory, trying to find pieces to fit together, to prove this is who he wants, _needs_ him to be.

“Who are you?” he asks. The Soldier turns to look at him.

“Please take off your mask? Please.” God, he’s begging.

The Soldier opens the files, flips through pages, pulls out a few and comes over to him. He squats down again and Steve doesn’t even look at the pages, he’s looking at _him_. Assessing. The Soldier taps the page with his metal finger. Metal on concrete. Ordering him.

“I don’t care. Who are you?”

“Look.” The Soldier rasps.

Steve looks down. Bodies. Every picture is a murder. Assassinations. JFK. Pictures of people he should probably know but doesn’t, are in there. He reaches into his jacket. Steve shakes his head. He doesn’t want to see whatever is on that piece of paper. The information the Soldier has that SHIELD doesn’t or isn’t sharing. The paper gets put down on the ground. Steve has his eyes closed, delaying the moment. He wants to be sick. “I don’t care who it is.”

The tapping continues. Look at the picture, he silently demands. Steve opens his eyes and looks. Howard Stark. Maria Stark. 

“You did this?” What the fuck is he supposed to do with that? Tony doesn’t know or else he would have said something.

A nod.

“You have to tell me who you are. You can’t do this to me.” Steve knows he’s being selfish.The Soldier is confessing to murders and Steve is only thinking about his own need to know if this is Bucky. “I’d let the whole world burn for him. I would. I don’t fucking care. I know I should. I don’t. Just tell me who you are.” He blinks through tears.

“Who do you think I am?” the Soldier rasps, and again there is nothing to tell if this is Bucky at all.

Steve’s shoulders slump. He’s overwhelmed and grief stricken. He can’t say it. Maybe not knowing is better than the certainty that Bucky is dead. It is. It has to be. He starts to cry and somehow his head winds up on the Soldier’s thigh. He cries on his leg.

Time passes.

The Soldier is touching his hair. He has been for awhile. The crying stops. The Soldier is saying his name very quietly.

“I can stay with SHIELD or disappear. You choose,” the Soldier rasps.

“Why would I choose?” He strains at the cuffs, desperately trying to break free. He’s cuffed in front, he should be able to tear them apart. What are they? Enraged, Steve throws his arms out, his whole body forward, knocking into him, toppling him backward. Steve shoves himself up the Soldier’s body so he’s lying on top of him, scrabbles at the mask clumsily, but can’t figure out how to take it off.

The Soldier is breathing, almost panting under him. He doesn’t try to stop Steve. He lays there, waiting. Steve reaches for the goggles instead, pulls them off his head. Those eyes. They’re Bucky’s eyes.

“Oh, my god. Help me. I can’t get the mask.” Steve feels like he’s dying.

Bucky reaches for the mask and undoes it, revealing his face. Steve tries to kiss him, but Bucky turns his head away, denying him.

“You don’t know me, Steve. Not anymore. And I don’t know you. I don’t remember you.”

That is not what he expected to hear.

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s all gone. I have no idea who you are because it wasn’t necessary for me to know. All I’ve done is kill people. I’m very, very good at it.”

“Then why are we here?” He’s going to call bullshit on that one. Bucky wouldn’t have gone to all this bother if he didn’t remember Steve.

“I don’t know,” Bucky says, after a few long moments. “I had to see you again. I don’t even remember us or what we had. I was curious, to see you last time, to know if it would jog my memory. Give me more information about who I had been.”

“Who you _are_. Did it?”

“No.”

“Bullshit. You’re doing this for me. You fled, or left, your previous job because of me. That’s why we’re here. You _know _me. ”

“It’s complicated.”

“I don’t care,” he says, pressing his head to the straps and leather of his outfit. “What do you need? To be safe? A place to stay? Tell me and I’ll do it.” Steve breathes him in, needing conformation this is Bucky. Visceral, physical confirmation. He moves down Bucky’s body, starts undoing his belt.

“Stop. What are you doing?” Bucky sounds scandalized.

“Do you… you really don’t remember, do you?” His Bucky would have been helping him undo his pants.

“No.”

“We grew up together. In Brooklyn. You were born in 1917. I was born in 1918. You’ve been _everything_ to me for almost a hundred years. He kisses the leather, gets Bucky’s pants open and unzipped. Bucky is half hard. Steve presses his nose to the crease of his thigh, breathing him in. It’s Bucky. Steve’s home.

“I missed you. You have to let me. Let me show you,” he says, because Bucky’s shoved a hand between them. He looks frightened.

“This isn’t…. I have to leave.”

“No. Hell, no. You have to stay with me,” Steve growls, and then he grabs Bucky’s hand, moves it out of the way and kisses the head of Bucky’s cock. He sucks him in. Gets that heavy leak of pre-come onto his tongue that he knows so well, and it’s so good. Steve moans so loudly it echoes off the walls. It’s been so long.

“Fuck,” he swears, coming in his pants. Untouched. Just from the taste of him.

It keys him up even more, and he sucks hard, takes him deep, swallows him down like he used to. It doesn’t take long. It’s been a long time for the both of them. Bucky comes silently. There’s no praise or moans. It’s quiet. There’s something tragic in that.

Steve keeps Bucky in his mouth as he softens. Bucky finally speaks. “We can’t do this again. I’m not who you want me to be. I never will be. You should think about whether or not you want me at SHIELD. I’ll disappear if you want. I do think that would be best.”

“No. Please, don’t disappear on me. Please, join SHIELD. Or not, but you can’t leave me. I need you. We’ll go wherever you want. Tell me and we’ll leave right now.”

Bucky closes his eyes, like he can’t think if he’s looking at Steve. “You have to promise to let _this_ go. If you promise not to do this again, then I will stay.”

“Are you saying you don’t want my mouth on you?” He’d certainly stopped protesting pretty quickly there.

“I…. It’s a bad idea. You don’t know anything about what I’ve done. I’m serious, Steven. Don’t do this to me again,” he says, carefully. Steven? He isn’t Steven.

Steve presses his face against the hard jut of Bucky’s hip bone. There is no softness on his stomach, no extra fat. He is all muscle and violence. Steve doesn’t care. “I’ll tell you the same thing you told me back in 1943. You can touch _me_, anytime you want. I will always want your touch. I’ll always want your cock in my mouth, or my hand, or my—” He swallows hard. They never had the chance to do _that_.

Bucky had wanted to do it properly. In their own bed, at home. Anal sex was a big deal to the both of them. Something they’d gotten a little superstitious about, a reason to not die. Hope for the future. Bucky had fingered Steve a lot towards the end. It made Steve come really hard and Steve loved the idea of Bucky inside him.

Bucky would say the filthiest things about Steve’s mouth, his lips, and his tits, but he’d never said anything that wasn’t almost stupidly romantic about his ass. How gentle he’d be, how good he’d make it for Steve. That he was going to kiss him there, lick him open, make an honest man out of him if Steve was giving up his virginity.

It had been silly and sweet and… yeah. The war would have ended, and they’d have gone home and Bucky would have given him a ring and taken him to bed. Bucky had started kissing his ring finger. Like he was a medieval courtier. Every morning, whenever their last moment alone was before their next mission, he’d kiss Steve’s hand, looking Steve in the eyes with a promise.The war had ended weeks after that mission. They’d come so fucking close.

Saving himself for the end of the war seems stupid now. All of it such a fucking waste. “Anything you want from me, I’ll give you. You can fuck me however you want, whenever you want. I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to. I’ll promise that. Not til you touch me first. But, you can always have me,” he says, wishing he could hug him properly. 

Bucky’s smile is sad, stiff. As if he’s never smiled or been sad before. “I won’t, Steve. I’m sorry. He must have been a lucky guy.”

“Not he, _you_.”

Bucky urges him to a sitting position and gets to his feet. He buttons up and turns away from Steve, leaving him on the floor in handcuffs. He packs up the files, puts them in the bag and sets it all at Steve’s feet. “Look it over. Take as long as you want. Text the burner if it’s yes or no. I won’t look at it for 48 hours. Take the time and _really_ think about it, Steve. I’m not him. I don’t remember you.” He drops the key to the cuffs at Steve’s feet and walks out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're thinking, 'I really thought they'd have hot sex and Steve wouldn't know it was Bucky.' Same. Sorry friends. the time came to write it that way and IDK why, but it wouldn't happen. hopefully, this is good too.


	8. Chapter 8

Steve obviously texts back the word yes. There is no response. He gives it another 12 hours before he tries calling the phone. The number has been disconnected.

Twelve hours after that, he gets a phone call on his normal phone from an unlisted number. He answers, because this is his SHIELD phone, and he only gets calls he’s supposed to. It’s Natasha.

“James Buchanan Barnes is in a secure location. Don’t freak out.”

“Wait. _What_?” Yeah, he’s about to start freaking out.

There’s silence for a moment. “You haven’t turned on the TV or looked at the computer I take it?”

Steve clicks on the TV and every channel has breaking news. Politicians arrested, information apparently dumped online. And then a name he didn’t think he’d ever have to see again. Hydra. Apparently infiltrated all levels of government, including SHIELD.

“This is…he did this?”

“He knew a lot of secrets, apparently. Or had access to them. This is him buying his freedom. He’s got immunity from the US government so long as he continues to cooperate. He should be able to walk around freely in a day or two. Just thought you’d be worried.”

“I had no idea. I should come in.” He’s such an idiot. Here he is, in his fucking apartment being depressed and alone, opening the door at every fucking sound in case it’s Bucky. Bucky isn’t coming to him.

“If you want to. He isn’t here.”

“Do you know where he is? Do you… do you know him?” There is something in the way she’s talking or not talking. His gut says she knows him. And after reading all the files Bucky gave him, everything SHIELD had on the Winter Soldier plus a few things Bucky had added, it’s entirely possible they knew each other.

“He trained me. In the Red Room. We were… close. At one point. He doesn’t remember. I barely remember.”

“You were his lover?” He can’t bear the idea of that. Natasha is beautiful, intelligent, seductive and deserves happiness. What if Bucky loved her?

“It isn’t that simple. And, he doesn’t remember me at all. There aren’t feelings there or anything. Not for either of us.”

“You’ve talked to him?” He has to clear his throat to get the words out.

“Yeah. Last night when he came in to hash it out with Fury, before it all went online. I was there.”

“Who else was there? Why wasn’t I included?” Her silence is the answer. Bucky didn’t want him included. “I’m coming in. I don’t care if he’s there or not.”

SHIELD has a sense of panic about it. And yet, there are a lot of absent people. Arrested? Fired? The magnitude of Hydra’s reach is stunning. Because the universe hates him, he runs into Tony outside Fury’s office.

Tony looks at him, looks away and then looks back. “What the hell happened to you?”

Natasha is there, looking intently at a computer screen. She finally looks at Steve. One brow goes up as she looks him over. “Well, I wouldn’t say no.”

Tony splutters. He’s actually speechless. It doesn’t last. “No one would say no! You can’t dress like that. You’re an old man! Unzip the jacket. At least let me see some sort of plaid non-iron collared shirt. Suede half boots? Painted on jeans? Did you get mugged by Tom Ford on the way over here?” 

Steve turns to Natasha. He is _not_ unzipping his leather jacket. It’s possible the shirt he has on underneath is a bit tight.

“Can you even sit down in those jeans?” Tony asks.

The answer to that is yes, he can, but it isn’t very comfortable. “What’s happening?” Steve asks, trying to change the subject. Tony gasps.

“Were you two _lovers_? Is… Is Captain America _gay_? Is Bucky Barnes _gay_? Did my father know?”

“Tony. Shut the hell up,” Steve demands.

“That’s not possible.” Tony gets out his phone, takes a picture of Steve. “Sending it to Pepper,” he mutters. He squints at Steve. “Is that… are your lips shiny?”

Natasha sighs loudly. “James is in with Fury. Got here just a few minutes before you did.”

Right. Bucky was here. Good. Well, then, fuck this. He goes to Fury’s office. Opens the door and lets himself in. Fury stops talking to see who’s interrupted them.

Bucky is standing there in a leather jacket, at least one gun and knife visible, gloves on his hands to hide the arm. He’s had a haircut and he looks… he looks so much like he used to. He’s beautiful.

Bucky looks at Steve and blinks.

“Cap, this is a private meeting,” Fury says.

“It’s… fine,” Bucky says, finally looking away from Steve and back to Fury. Bucky’s cheeks are turning pink. Steve should have unzipped the jacket. He does not have a grandpa shirt on. He’s got on a shirt that only a prostitute would have worn, back in the day. Assuming they’d had such a fabric. Apparently, now it’s just a sexy shirt. As soon as Bucky had said he’d be coming in, but that he and Steve wouldn’t be getting together, Steve had decided to seduce him.

It wasn’t something he had any experience in. Besides Bucky and he isn’t sure who seduced who back then. He’d stumbled out of that room, mouth still tasting of come, and looked up ‘how to dress sexy as a man’ on the google. He’d gone straight to Nordstrom, gotten a personal shopper (a very nice gay man, who practically salivated all over Steve) and got himself kitted out from head to toe.

He’d spent _a lot_ of money. If Bucky can resist him… well, he can’t. It’s impossible. There is absolutely no universe where Bucky Barnes could resist him when Steve looks like this. It’s just a fact.

So yeah, he looks good. Bucky’s gaze comes back to him, looking him up and down. He pauses as he looks at Steve’s crotch. “What were you saying?” Bucky asks, Fury. And then he shifts on his feet. Steve knows exactly what that means. Bucky is getting hard.

Eighteen months of fucking like rabbits during the war means Steve knows all his tells.

“I wasn’t,” Fury says, annoyed. “_You_ were. _You_ wanted to know when you could start.”

“Right!” Bucky scowls at Steve. He blows out a breath. “Was there an answer to that?”

Fury sighs. “Give it a week. Cap will show you to your apartment. In house until things settle down.”

“That is acceptable,” Bucky says. Fury hands Bucky a thick manila envelope, and Steve heads to the exit. He gets the door open and peers over his shoulder, catching Bucky in the act of checking out his ass.

By some miracle, Natasha and Tony aren’t in the hallway. Steve unzips his jacket as they stand next to the elevator, heart pounding, the combination of lust and anxiety making his palms sweat. The doors open and Steve goes in. “What floor are you on?”

“Oh.” He looks down at the envelope. “75C?” He’s staring at Steve. Steve presses the button for the right floor, leans back against the elevator wall causally, arms behind him so the jacket is open.

The prostitute approved t-shirt is navy. It’s cotton and something else that makes it sheer and clingy. The material is thin. _Really_ thin. In the right light, one can see his nipples, the hollow of his belly button. In any light, Bucky will be able to see the titanium nipple rings he got the same day he bought the clothes.

They’re healed up thanks to the serum, and if his nipples were sensitive before, now they’re practically unbearable. He touched them last night, imagined it was Bucky’s hands instead of his own, and came twice without a hand on himself.

Bucky swallows. Looks Steve in the face. “Anytime you want,” Steve says. He’s thinking about shoving away from the wall and moving closer, but he’s gotta let Bucky make the first move. There isn’t much more he can do besides this. Stand around like a hot, available piece of ass. As the people of today might say.

He supposes he could just strip down in the hallway or something. Surely, it can’t come to that.

“You didn’t have those during the war, did you?” Bucky asks, hesitantly.

“I did not. What do you think?” he asks.

“Take off the jacket.”

Steve obeys. His nipples harden, his dick gets hard, all of him is suddenly on edge.

“When… when did you get it done?” Bucky asks, still fixated on them.

“Right after you said you were going to stay away from me.”

“You’re trying to tempt me,” Bucky says, carefully. Like it doesn’t make any sense.

“You used to love my tits. Couldn’t keep your hands off them. I guess I was hoping you still would.”

Bucky grunts. Does the hard-dick shifting of weight. “So the outfit and the lips, that’s all for me?”

“Yeah, Buck. All for you. They’re really sensitive now. If I’d known, I’m not sure I would have done it. Can’t hardly stand it. I’d give anything to have you touch them.” He raises a hand, doesn’t even touch the nipple, just presses into the flesh, to the right of his nipple, the shirt pulling taut over his skin. That gentle abrasion is almost too much with Bucky so close.

Bucky makes a rough sound, his hand slamming against the stop button in the elevator. His hand clenches at his side. He’s staring at Steve’s tits and then he closes the distance between them. “Why do I think you’re about to come? I’m sure of it. Why?”

“God. Because I am.”

“I must have had to fight off the whole fucking world to keep you.” He doesn’t touch Steve. His hands settle on the wall, trapping him there, but he doesn’t touch.

“You didn’t. I only wanted you. It’s always just been you.”

Bucky’s head comes down, forehead pressed against Steve’s.

“You’re so beautiful, Steve. I need you to stop doing this. This isn’t fair to you,” he says, and finally his hand drops, hovers over Steve’s chest, torn between touching and not touching.

“Please, make me come. You know. You just touch me and I will. I always come so easy for you.”

“I don’t remember,” he says, a little desperately.

Steve grabs his hand, needing it on his breast. It’s the wrong thing to do. Bucky reacts instinctively, smacking Steve’s hand out of the way and putting space between them. He presses the button for the elevator, staring at the doors, as it starts moving again. Bucky clearly wants them to open. Bucky adjusts himself and hisses. Reaches a hand into his jeans, trying to make room for his big, hard cock. Steve will be jerking off to that later.

The doors open. Bucky mutters something in Russian.

“What?” Steve asks.

“You really will be the death of me,” he says, as they start walking down the hallway. They stop in front of his apartment.

“You think I was the death of you?” Steve asks. He was. He just didn’t know Bucky thought so, too. Is that the only thing he remembers?

Bucky looks at him, slightly confused. “No. Of course not.”

“But, you don’t remember. You don’t know. And, it was my fault.”

“Well, no, I don’t remember. But, it wasn’t your fault.” He actually sounds like he knows that for a fact.

“You don’t know that. You could have gone home. You stayed, for me. And if I’d been a little faster, just… better, I could have saved you.” Bucky turns away from him, opening the door and then reaching for Steve. He takes his hand and brings him into the apartment. This was such a dumb idea. Seduce Bucky. As if he could forget about the train and the decades in-between. Why wouldn’t Bucky be mad? Steve got him killed.

“I know that’s wrong. He… I, stayed because I loved you. Best friends since childhood. That’s what the museum said.”

Oh, god. The museum. “How did you find out we knew each other at all? Did someone tell you?” Steve leans against the wall in the bland, white entryway, unable to hold his own weight. It’s like the whole world is on him. Bucky reaches out, pushes a lock of hair off Steve’s forehead. He drops his hand back to his side, frowning, like maybe he hadn’t meant to touch Steve.

“I was told to kill you. You were my target. I saw you and I couldn’t pull the trigger. That’s never happened before. That required information. In order to get it, I had to kill my handlers. I knew you must have been special somehow. And when you type in Captain America, my image came up.”

“How can you say you don’t remember me when you couldn’t kill me? Some part of you has to,” he begs, voice shaky. Bucky’s fingertips rest gently on Steve’s cheek. He brushes his thumb across Steve’s skin. Tears. 

“Steve,” He sounds very, very sad. “Some part of me knows to keep you safe, and that you’re… special. But, I don’t know anything about you. And you don’t know anything about me. Did you read the files?”

“Of course I did.”

“Then why this effort? Why pursue me?” It’s an honest question. Bucky genuinely can’t fathom it. “I’m a murderer. A blank slate that awaits orders. You can’t… you can’t love a weapon.” It occurs to Steve that Bucky has thought about this. He’s thought about Steve, and them, and if it’s possible.

“That’s not true. I know everything about you. I know everything that matters. I know how you like your hotdog. How much you hate shouting. That you’re a great dancer and you like to kiss for hours. I know you’ll always protect me. And I know you didn’t do any of those things by your own choice. You were made into a weapon and used as a weapon and that wasn’t the man I grew up with and love.”

“You don’t love _this_,” he says. The last word has so much venom in it. Bucky’s body, his mind, his heart, Bucky doesn’t think Steve could love a single part of him.

“You don’t get to decide that for me. I want you to remember, of course I do. But, if you don’t, then, then I guess we start over. You fell in love with me once, I know we can do it again.”

“I’m not a good man, Steve.”

“Do you know who Red Skull was?” Bucky nods. “He had the serum and it made him a monster. The serum brings out who you are. You had the serum and all it did was amplify the good. Think about what it took to make you a weapon. How hard they had to work to make you do bad things. I know you. I love you. Fuck, look at this stupid outfit. That’s how much I want you.”

Bucky frowns. “Even if you’re right about me, you’re wrong about the outfit. The outfit is….” His gaze dips down Steve’s body, looking at Steve’s chest. “It isn’t stupid. You could start a riot. I’m not sure there are words to say how incredible you look. ”

Steve blushes. “Well, you could _try_.”

Bucky’s mouth twitches in amusement and then he laughs. Just a little. It sounds rusty. Maybe even disjointed. Like he’d felt amused, remembered to smile, suppressed the laugh (for fear of being beaten or tortured probably), realized it was okay to laugh and figured he’d try. Which is…. Steve bites his lip so he doesn’t tell Bucky he loves him. That everything he does is still dear and perfect and better than anything he’s seen the day he lost him.

“You’re not going to give up, are you?”

“Oh no. You might have seen that in the museum. I don’t give up.” And he certainly wouldn’t give up on him.

“You’d think I’d have spent the last few days preparing for all of this, and I did, but the rest of the time I kept thinking about you. If I joined SHIELD and we had to see each other all the time. How that might be,” he says, carefully. “And, there’s only one logical conclusion. This a mistake. Being near you is dangerous for you and something I don’t deserve.”

Some part of him goes on lockdown. No tears or emotions, not even lust. The only thing that matters at this moment in time is solving this crisis, saving his own little world. Bucky can’t leave. “Do I deserve to be happy?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you deserve the whole damned world, Stevie.”

“Then you have to stay for me. You punishing yourself punishes me. I don’t deserve that.”

“That’s a clever argument. You know you can change your mind? When you figure out that I’m not him? I’ll leave you alone if you ask.”

“I hope not. I hope leaving me becomes impossible for you. I’ll make it impossible.”

Bucky looks down, picks up Steve’s hand, like he’s thinking about kissing it. He drops it and looks back up. “Then I probably better hold out awhile longer, god only knows what you’d wear tomorrow.”

Relief goes through him, quick as fear. “I’ll wear it anyway. I’ll wear less.”

Bucky leads him into the apartment. Takes an actual look around the place and opens a door. It’s a bedroom. He pulls the door closed and gives Steve a strained smile. “That seems a little… fast.”

“Okay,” Steve says. Bucky is wrong. It’s 70 fucking years too slow. But, if this is what he needs, then, they’ll go slow. “But, just to clarify, you’re going to kiss me soon, right?”

Bucky jerks him forward, into his chest. His breasts press against Bucky’s leather jacket and Steve offers his mouth. Gets a tentative press of lips. Everything is careful and slow. It takes forever before there’s even a hint of tongue. Steve doesn’t dare move, just tries to stand there and not fuck it all up. Bucky finally touches his face, hands sliding down Steve’s neck to his shoulders, down his arms and off.

Is that supposed to be an out? Like maybe Steve will realize how bad Bucky is at this kissing thing and want to flee?

Bucky pulls back, lips slick, breathing a little fast. He looks down Steve’s body. Steve wonders if this is what girls feel like when guys try to stare down their blouses. Steve blushes, the whole thing a little exhilarating.

He touches Steve’s stomach carefully, thumb going back and forth. The other hand starts back near Steve’s mouth, so Steve turns his head and kisses it, tilts his head and sighs happily when Bucky kisses his neck. The hand slips down to his collarbone, pausing, hesitating. Bucky clearly wants to get his hands on Steve’s tits but for whatever reason is chickening out.

He wants to shout at him to just do it already. If this poor bastard had any idea the depraved things he used to say and do to Steve back in the day, he wouldn’t be agonizing over whether or not he should feel Steve up. “Can I touch you now?” Steve asks, quietly.

“Yes. Try to tell me where before you do it, so I don’t react badly.”

“I will definitely try to remember that. I want to touch your chest. I want your jacket off.”

Bucky removes his hands from Steve and shrugs off his jacket. Steve curses himself. That was his own damned fault there, he thinks, as Bucky’s hands get further away from his chest.Idiot. He remembers Bucky all those years ago, if they got separated for more than a few days, telling Steve he was going to die of blue balls. Can he die of blue tits? He doesn’t laugh, but Bucky must feel the smile because he pulls back.

“What?”

“You used to joke that you’d die from blue balls if you didn’t get to come. And I was kind of jokingly thinking I might die of blue tits if you didn’t get on with it.”

“You’re very pushy.”

“I just really want you. You always made me feel so good about myself. Even when….” And that’s when he realizes that Bucky doesn’t know about his lack of equipment. What if he doesn’t like it? What if he’s horrified or disturbed or it takes him a bit to warm up to it? It was one of the things that had made Steve feel so loved and safe, desirable with Bucky, was his instantaneous acceptance of Steve’s cock. The way he went from curiosity to lust in no time, practically forcing Steve to believe he looked perfect. That Bucky wouldn’t want him any other way. What if this isn’t the same? Could he lose that? It may not even be intentional, but he might. This tentative Bucky might freak out or say the wrong thing or just not like him. 

“Even when what?” Bucky asks. Bucky closes the distance between them, hands on Steve more easily now, even if it is just his arms and his face.

“Well, it hadn’t occurred to me that you wouldn’t remember. But… um, I don’t look like most guys.”

“This is true,” Bucky says, and Steve has no idea how to read that statement. It throws him off a little. “You may not like me as much as you used to.”

“I can’t imagine there would be anything I wouldn’t find attractive, but if it helps at all, I am down one arm since you last were with… _me_. There is a lot of scarring and it’s not appealing. You may find it difficult to look at. It doesn’t hurt, though,” he says, deciding he needs to reassure him.

“I don’t care,” Steve says, devastated Bucky might even think he had a problem with it. Weirdly enough, that seems to be the end of Steve’s resolve and bravado. This is Bucky but it isn’t. His Bucky might actually be gone forever. He wraps his arms around Bucky and can’t help but cry. He doesn’t want to. All tarted up and desperate to be with Bucky, and instead he’s crying.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs, “Up,” he orders and there’s a grip on his thigh. Somehow, his legs are around Bucky’s waist and he’s being carried into the bedroom. Bucky had carried him on his back when they were little. Said ‘up’ and Steve had gotten hauled up, clinging to Bucky like a limpet.

The Soldier is so strong, the metal of his hand uncomfortable on Steve’s ass, his variation of the serum making it possible for him to carry Steve so easily. “I want you, I will always love you, but that doesn’t mean you’ll love me or desire me. And, it’s not like your arm. We’re not talking about my muscles. I--” He can’t figure out how to finish that sentence. “Maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe if we give it a few days you’ll like me more and it will be easier. We could just…. I want to keep my pants on.” He’s such a coward.

Bucky kisses him all over his face, hums in agreement. “Whatever you want. It sounds unlikely, though. The idea that you’re unattractive somehow.”

He shakes his head. Bucky just doesn’t understand. “Can I kiss you some more or should we stop?”

“Do you want to kiss me more?” Steve asks.

“Desperately,” he confesses. He’s propped up on an elbow, looking down at Steve and he puts his hand on Steve’s stomach, watches his flesh fingers tease at the hem of Steve’s shirt. He brushes bare skin and Steve shivers, want to arch into something and come. Get that first orgasm out of the way.

“You’re so beautiful, Steve.” He moves, goes between Steve’s legs and kisses Steve’s stomach, small kisses, then open mouthed, a hint of teeth, his hands skating higher and higher, revealing more of him. His ribs and finally Bucky’s hands are cupping his tits, just holding them in his hands, stunned at how big they are. “You have the prettiest pair of tits I’ve ever fucking seen,” he breathes, and he actually moans as he gets his mouth on one, takes the nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking around the ring.

He tugs gently on the other one and Steve arches into him, overwhelmed, coming with a sigh. Bucky pauses, looks up at him from under his lashes. “Did I buy you panties?” he asks, carefully. As if he’s worried he’ll offend Steve. “Or get them for you?”

A small town in France. The town dressmaker had a stash of hidden lingerie and Bucky had traded her four chocolate bars for them. God only knew what deals he made to get the chocolate bars, but he’d been so fucking pleased with himself when he pulled them out, stripped Steve bared and slipped them onto him. He’d buried his face into the silk, petted Steve endlessly. Steve had been a whimpering mess by the end of it, so overstimulated and exhausted from Bucky’s relentless touching and kissing of him, the number of times Bucky had made him come, tormented him in an attempt to keep the silk vaguely clean, that he’d actually fallen asleep after Bucky was done with him, and almost missed dinner completely.

“Yeah. What color were they?”

He closes his eyes, kisses Steve’s nipple, presses his face into Steve’s tits and grinds hard against Steve’s thigh. “So big I can barely fit them in my hand. Fucking incredible.” He pulls back with a frown and a sigh, hands trailing down Steve’s stomach to his thighs. He looks down at Steve’s crotch, as if he’s trying to remember.

He shakes his head, presses his lips to Steve’s stomach, the band of his jeans, runs his tongue along the edge, like he wants to be in Steve’s pants. “What color were they?” he repeats, absently. “I don’t know. It’s not a memory, more of a feeling. I think of you, have you here and I want to take your pants off. I keep thinking of the stores I’ve passed with all the lingerie in the windows and imagining you in them. You’d look so pretty, the material would be so smooth, except for… god, you taste good, don’t you? I think I liked you to come in my mouth. I think you always came more than once. You would… you make lots of little sounds for me. Is that right?” he demands, looking up Steve’s body. His eyes have gone dark, his lips are swollen.

“Yeah,” he whispers, “that’s right.” He runs his fingers through Bucky’s hair.

“But, you don’t want me to? Not today?” Bucky’s hand is going up and down Steve’s thigh. “I want to blow you. And I… I know you just came and you’re all messy now. You need me to clean you up, don’t you, baby?”

Steve’s throat is all clogged up. “I’m scared.”

“No. No, that won’t do at all,” he says, and pushes back so he’s on his knees. He reaches for Steve’s jeans, undoes the button and the zipper, pulls them down. Steve puts a hand on his underwear, his stupid jeans so damned tight they want to pull them off, too. They’re white and satin, women’s panties. The front is wet, his cock is hard again, his balls visible, all of him so small, fitting just fine in the women’s panties. Bucky gets Steve’s pants off and groans at the sight, presses his mouth against the satin. “Legs up, sweetheart. Bend them, get those thighs over my shoulders and give me room to work. Fucking hell,” he says, tongue licking at the crease of his thigh where it meets the fabric. His hand is on Steve, touching him gently through the material.

“God,” he says, almost reverently. “You can’t convince me I didn’t live down here,” he says, working a hand down the bed, trying to get his own pants open and his cock out as he explores Steve through the panties. Unable to wait. Aroused by Steve, after all. Still.

“I’m going to come,” Steve gasps, and Bucky drags the fabric aside, gets his mouth on Steve, taking him down to the root and sucking. Steve comes, pulsing into Bucky’s mouth. “You. In my mouth. Please,” he says, and Bucky prowls up the bed, straddles his chest like he used to, one hand on his cock as he feeds it into Steve’s mouth. He groans and thrusts in shallow movements, coming copiously, spilling out the corner of Steve’s mouth.

And then Bucky is kissing him again, all hesitation gone as he touches Steve all over, sucks and plays with Steve’s tits so much he becomes sore and the nipples a bright pink. They’re hot when he finally quits for a bit, distracted by the feeling of his fingers in Steve’s ass. He’d come on Steve’s cock at some point, has been using it to open Steve up for the last hour.

“I’m worried you’re not wet enough.”

“I am. Promise.”

“You’ll say anything to get what you want,” Bucky chuckles against his mouth. Steve’s stomach flutters. He’s said a few things like that, passing little comments on Steve’s personality, hints of who he used to be.

“I will. But, I don’t want to wait. We waited so fucking long. Sometimes people ask me if I have any regrets, and yeah, I do. I never had your dick in my ass.”

“What do people say in response to that?”

Steve laughs, and hits him in the arm. “I don’t say that. Maybe I should.”

“Definitely. Although it won’t be a regret anymore.”He kisses Steve for long moments. “I think you’re ready, sweetheart.”

“I’ve been ready for half an hour. I think you were enjoying yourself.”

He’s moving over Steve, trying to watch himself get lined up to Steve’s hole. He spits in his hand and puts it on his cock and that’s most definitely not something Steve should find hot, but yeah, he definitely does. It’s part of how desperate they are to get Bucky’s cock inside him, the lengths they’ll do to, anything to make him wet enough.

Bucky presses into him then, fucking into him in careful movements. Steve grabs his cock and balls, pressing hard, so close to coming. The stretch of it, the heat and weight of Bucky, all of it combines and he comes with a whimper.

Bucky pulls out of him, swipes up Steve’s paltry offering and presses it into Steve’s hole. And then he’s back inside, fucking Steve. He’s already come twice so it takes awhile. Long enough for Steve to get properly used to it and into it, long enough that it becomes uncomfortable and not quite wet enough. Long enough for Steve to get hard again and dripping onto his stomach, Bucky telling him how beautiful he is and that he’s almost there.

He comes in Steve and collapses on top of him, which Steve sighs into happily, wrapping his legs around him and keeping him close. 

****

“What the hell,” Bucky breathes as they get off the jet in Wakanda. The sun is bright and color is everywhere. The king is there with his sister, and they lead Bucky into the palace and down to his sister’s lab.

To say that Steve is on edge is a massive understatement. It’s only a few days in cryo but the idea of it sent Steve into a flood of tears when Bucky told him. He’d pleaded with him not to. He loves Bucky. Still. Again. He doesn’t need Bucky to remember their past. But Bucky wants it. If there is a chance to remember his time with Steve, he wants it.

It’s the only fight they’ve had. Steve had stormed off, slammed the door and it had broken on its hinges. When Bucky came to find him, half an hour later, he was on the bed sobbing.

“Sweetheart, I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t need to remember. I can tell you. Anything you want to know. I don’t want you to go back under. Cold and alone. I love you.”

“I love you, too. But, I need to know, sweetheart. If it’s possible to remember my parents and my sisters, our time together, then I want to. I don’t think it’s fair for you to ask me to give that up.”

“I know. I just—” Steve shoved up off the bed, threw his arms around Bucky’s neck and held onto him. Steve hadn’t realized how much guilt he felt for what had happened, had sort of expected the trauma to go away, but it’s still there. And he finds himself overcome by gratitude and guilt and general ups and downs so frequently he isn’t sure why Bucky is even bothering to put up with him.

“It’s alright. We’ll be fine. I’m okay. I promise.”

And so Steve watched as Bucky was frozen, his brain on the screen as Shuri explained about the various blocks in certain places. It took longer than expected, apparently there were trigger words that would force him to do things. Brainwashing techniques that he’d be susceptible to if the wrong people got near him. Undoing that would take time.

Bucky was supposed to be frozen for four days. It’s now been a week and a half. And then the call comes that Nat and Tony need his help back in New York, and even though it kills him to leave, he goes.

Chaos, violence and weird monsters ensue. Clint limps away, Nat has to wear a boot for a few days which Tony thinks is hilarious, and Steve has bruises and got a collapsed lung. He doesn’t recommend anyone ever have one. It’s fucking awful.

No one wants him to fly for 24 hours. He promises 12. To take his mind off his miseries, Tony bullies them into going to a pub. An actual English-style pub. “They brought over the interior. Tudor. You’ll love it. It’s old. Just like you.”

“Why do I feel like we’re going there just so you’d have the setup for your bad joke?”

“That isn’t why we’re going there. And I will expect a full apology tomorrow.”

Nat pats him on the shoulder and he promises to have a drink with her. He’s actually wound up in an annoying situation, he realizes, as he gets his third drink plunked in front of him. Every one of them is expecting him to have a drink with him. He just wants to go back to Wakanda and see Bucky.

“You’re not very good company,” Tony shouts, as it starts getting loud.

“No, I’m not,” he shouts back. Tony rolls his eyes. The waitress comes back, another pint of beer put down in front of Steve. He’s had his obligatory three. “I didn’t order this.”

“It’s from him,” she says, jerking her chin to the bar. And there stands Bucky. Clean-shaven, hair perfect, even with pomade like before the war. He’s got a blue jacket on, close to the one he used to wear and brown jeans. Steve gets to his feet, drawn to him like a magnet.

“Ten dollars says they get kicked out for indecent exposure,” Clint shouts.

“Who’d call the cops? If that happens, I’m going to watch.” Steve stops, looks back. Nat shrugs. “Well, I will,” she says, vaguely sheepish.

“Yeah, we all would,” Tony says, and gives Steve a thumbs up. But Steve isn’t even paying them anymore attention. He goes up to Bucky, gets right up into his space, fingers through his belt loops and hauls him close. Presses them tight together.

“Tell me you’re okay.” Someone whistles from their table. Steve ignores them.

“Do you think they have an upstairs dining room, conveniently closed so I can get my mouth on you?”

“Oh my god,” he says, and hugs him hard.

Bucky chuckles. “Easy, punk. I’m fine. It was a success. I remember everything. We’re going to move immediately back to Brooklyn, we’re definitely going to get married as soon as we fucking can, and you are never allowed to eat two day old leftovers again.”

Steve blushes, mortified. And laughs because it is kind of funny. “Oh, so you have _all_ your memories back?” he says, vividly remembering the one time he got food poisoning while they were in Europe.

“Some I could definitely do without. You promised to buy me a new pair of shoes.”

“That was 70 years ago.”

“I don’t care. I told you it looked dodgy as hell and you didn’t listen. My shoes paid a price.”

“I’ll buy you shoes, but only when it’s community property.”

“What’s community property?”Bucky asks, curious. Steve shuts him up with a kiss, there’s more cat calling from from his obnoxious friends, and they lived happily ever after. 


End file.
